


Revert

by ninemoons42



Category: Brick (2005), Inception (2010)
Genre: Body Image, Disguise, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-28
Updated: 2011-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other team members inadvertently glimpse Arthur's past - and Eames is apprehensive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revert

  
title: Revert  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
pairing: established Arthur/Eames.  
warnings: After watching Brick, [this](http://news.image.soixam.com/content/755517_5S.jpg) quickly became an iconic image of the Brendan Frye character to me. So I quickly composed a story in which Arthur from Inception used to be Brendan, and must temporarily take on his old appearance for a job.  
Yes, that mention of an extractor named Rory is just my way of supporting one of my favorite Doctor Who companions.  
disclaimer: I don't own the original story or the characters. Not making any profit, just playing in the sandbox.  
summary: The other team members inadvertently glimpse Arthur's past - and Eames is apprehensive.

  
“Oh, shit,” Eames swore as he looked over the recon photos of their mark. “He would have to live near my old patch. My old _old_ patch. Following him through it could be a mite tricky; too many people might still be able to recognize me there.”

“Did you know about this beforehand?” Arthur got up from his desk and started going through the pockets of his bag.

“No,” their extractor, Rory, said. He passed a hand over his face and looked worried. “Didn’t know he would move in a hurry, either. Have you turned up anything on him yet?”

“Yes, but nothing about this.” Arthur walked over to Eames’s desk and put a hand on his shoulder. “Now I know why you were reluctant to take this job, Stuart. I’m sorry.”

Eames nodded and put his hand over Arthur’s.

“So that’s it? We’re done here?” Ariadne asked, worrying at the ends of her light wrap.

“No,” Arthur and Eames said at the same time.

“Just need a different disguise is all,” Eames went on, after a moment and a deep breath. “Bit of a delay, but still manageable.”

“No,” Arthur said again. “Too risky. I have a better idea.”

Pause, and then: “Arthur,” Eames said, frowning with both understanding and worry.

And then they were all just watching as Arthur peeled off his suit jacket, his cotton jumper. Long fingers undoing his buttons and stripping off the rest of his shirt, till he was down to a light t-shirt.

Arthur sighed, shot Eames a rueful little frown, and then raked his hands roughly through his gelled hair, till it came down around his ears in a wavy mess.

Finally, he extracted a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from his pockets and put them on. To Eames: “Mind if I borrow your jacket?”

“Help yourself.”

And when he turned back to them, he was nearly unrecognizable. It wasn’t just the tense curve of his hunched shoulders, or the disaffected droop of his lips, or the gray bleakness in his eyes. There was an old tension coming off him, mixed with grief and resentment and a familiar steely determination.

Arthur dropped a kiss atop Eames’s head, murmured “I should have something for you when I get back,” and was gone without another sound.

After a long moment: “What,” Ariadne demanded weakly, “what the fuck just happened?”

“That,” Eames said, in exactly the same tone, “that was Arthur reverting to his past.

“God help us all.”  



End file.
